The Fainting Robin
by BlueSea14
Summary: Inspired by xxxphoenix-girlxxx's "Labled". Robin's teammates, one by one, discover the tattoo that their leader recieved from one of their worst enemies. Set post-'The Apprentice: Part Two'.


**Story**: The Fainting Robin

**Characters**: Robin, Starfire, Raven, Beast Boy, Cyborg

**Summary**: Inspired by xxxphoenix-girlxxx's "Labeled". Robin's teammates, one by one, discover the tattoo that their leader recieved from one of their worst enemies. Set post The Apprentice: Part Two.

**Word Count**: 4,846

_**A/N** - I was reading in this ficdom the other night when I stumbled across this story, "Labeled" by xxxpheonix-girlxxx. The idea of that tattoo intrigued me, and I wondered what would happen if the rest of Robin's teammates discovered it. This is set after "Apprentice: Part Two" and before the next episode of the series._

_I didn't want to make it some grand unveiling of Robin's tattoo, dramatic and "public", more or less. That's why this is divided into sections, and Robin's teammates find out about the tattoo one at a time. I thought that was a better way to display all five characters than to struggle with all their expressions, emotions and words at once._

_Also, I took the liberty of determining the length of Robin's stay with Slade. It never made much sense to me that within a few hours of losing Robin, he was out there stealing. I get that, for the purposes of the episodes, everything had to be compacted like that. But I feel that a longer stay with Slade would have been more appropriate - and therefore, I made that decision myself._

_I thought that the poem fit, so that's why it's in here. As you can see, it is entitled "If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking" and is by Emily Dickinson. This poem, in application to this story itself, would be seen in Robin's friend's point of view. It's a bit dramatic, in that perspective, but I think that it effectively captures the friendships that are so strong in these teens. :D_

_And the title is a reference to the line in the poem, "Or help one fainting robin"._

_I hope you enjoy! :)_

* * *

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

-Emily Dickinson, "If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking"

* * *

The punching bag hurt my knuckles.

The false foe was softer than I had anticipated, but after a few moves I began to fall back into the rhythm and feeling of this kind of workout. Soon, the memory of fighting off robots for training was a dim shadow in my knuckles, and the punching bag was a familiar enemy.

My stomach twisted in knots. Truthfully, the knots had been there for days, ever since I got back to Titans Tower. They intensified with every reminder that I had been gone from my home, enslaved in service to a madman. Titans Tower was where I should feel comfortable and safe, but I wasn't even at home in my own home anymore.

Maybe it was too much to ask for. I'd gone through so much, when I had nothing going my way. Slade had been my Master, I had been his Apprentice, and there had been no escape. That hopelessness had diminished with the destruction of the probes, but not it had not completely disappeared. Now it was aimed in a different direction.

I wasn't trapped, but I was lost. I no longer slept well, and I couldn't stay in one place for too long without feeling jittery, as if someone were spying on me. Three weeks with Slade were too many. I wasn't sure I would ever be myself again.

My attacks on the punching bag intensified. I could hear Cyborg in the corner of the room, methodically lifting weights, and with my honed senses I knew that he was watching me. I'd become pretty good at sensing things like that during my weeks under Slade's roof. I had to stay on my guard, constantly, to defend myself from surprise attacks. From danger.

There was danger everywhere. I already knew that - my parents had died from an unseen threat, after all - and I thought I'd learned those lessons. Danger is everywhere. Don't trust anyone you don't know, and even then make sure that they're trustworthy. Slade proved to me that I'd forgotten that lesson, somehow. Whatever had made my observation skills lax would not be allowed to influence me again -

"Ah!"

I hissed, my shoulder throbbing in pain. Stumbling back, I clapped an arm over the aching joint and breathed deeply, centering myself in an effort to quell the pain. My arm had hit the bag just the wrong way as I attempted a more difficult move and lost my balance, slamming my shoulder into it. And only seconds after claiming I would not become lax again...wasn't that just my luck?

Immediately, I wanted to hit something else in frustration. I'd lost focus, concentrated too much on what was happening inside my head, and had paid for it. I couldn't allow myself to do that. It had been pounded into my head by Batman for years: never lose focus on your surroundings.

But lately, I was forgetting all too many lessons that should have been branded in my skull. I'd thought they were instinctual by now, but obviously I was wrong. One more thing I had to work on...

Cyborg was shifting the weights aside, intending to come to my aid. I staggered as I turned around - not the effect I was hoping for - to try and tell him that I'd be fine. "Cyborg, I'm -"

"Nuh-uh," he snorted, rolling off the bench. "Don't even try that excuse with me, Robin." The nearly soundless mechanical whispers of his joints clinked as he walked up to me, eyes on my shoulder. "Let me see," he demanded.

Obediently, I released my grip on the joint. I already knew it was fine, that I'd just listed sideways and slammed into the punching bag. Maybe a little bit of ice would be necessary, considering the force with which I'd been throwing myself around, but I knew that there wasn't much that Cyborg could actually do for me besides confirm my assessment.

His large metal fingers prodded my shoulder from the front before he spun me around to look at it from the back, nudging my shirt away so the skin was visible. "Looks okay," he commented. My fingers unconsciously drifted to the collar of my shirt, as it was choking me. I tugged it away just a little, swallowing as I did so.

I could see Cyborg in the mirror that was in front of me - he'd spun me to face it - and I watched him as he inspected the nonexistant wound. "Just a bruise, I'd..."

His eyes locked on the back of my neck. And, all too late, I remembered what was there. I'd been trying so hard to forget about it that I hadn't even considered trying to hide it when Cyborg showed his intent to make sure I hadn't hurt my shoulder too badly. Without my cape on, the mark was just visible above the collar of my shirt - even more so, now, since I'd tugged at the collar seconds before.

A beat too late, he finished his sentence. "Say. I think it'll be fine." I had to give him credit for the quick pick-up and smooth, nonchalant pretense that he could pull together without a hitch.

I considered leaving it at that - pretending that I didn't know he knew, faking my thanks and running out of the room - but something held me back. Maybe it was the stress of everything. Maybe it was that Cyborg was one of my oldest friends, and I felt he deserved at least a little bit of the truth from me, if he wanted to request it. Either way, I found myself saying, "You saw it, didn't you?"

There was a pause. My eyes locked on the floor at the foot of the mirror. He finally grunted, "Yeah."

I nodded once. So, neither of us would be pretending, here. That suited me just fine. "Wasn't my idea. I think I was drugged at the time, probably knocked out by one of the Slade-bots."

A beat. "Man, that just sucks."

I smiled, turning slightly so he could see that. I could always count of Cyborg's frankness, his straight-talking self making everything seem a little less serious. "Yeah."

For a moment, neither of us seemed to know what to say to one another. Then he clapped me gently on my shoulder - the one that wasn't bruised - and told me, "I can put another one right over it, if you want."

The corner of my mouth flicked up slightly. "Do you even know how to make a tattoo?" I asked, finally meeting his gaze.

His eyes went wide. "Prison style work for you?" he grinned, holding up one hand. The first finger transformed into the miniature screwdriver he used for anything that had tiny screws.

"I think a needle would work better than that."

Cyborg snorted, his finger going back to normal. "Well, I'm fresh out of needles. Maybe one of the others has one...?" He raised his eyebrow.

I knew the real meaning behind that question, and the grin slipped from my face. "No, I don't think they do." No, they didn't know.

He nodded, his expression understanding. He clapped my shoulder with his hand again, telling me, "Then I guess I'll have to wait, and ask them later." And he headed back to the the bench he'd been lifting weights at earlier.

I turned around, facing the punching back again, but this time my limbs didn't flail as much. I was more in control of my body again. I was more sure of myself. I felt confidence again. Maybe someone else knowing one of the few secrets from my time with Slade had helped me feel better. Maybe I'd just calmed down some, with the break in dwelling about my experiences and their repercussions on my comfort in the Titans Tower. Maybe -

Maybe there were too many theories, and I was just distracting myself with my own thoughts. Grinning, I threw myself into the game of cat-and-mouse with the punching bag, and let the workout do its job.

* * *

A few weeks had passed since my forced conscription into Slade's service as his apprentice. In all that time, I'd been handling my readjustment well. It was a bit discouraging that it took me weeks to become comfortable in my own home again, but I took it on stride. I wasn't egotistical enough to think that I could just slip back into my old life without theconsequences of my imprisonment affecting me.

Namely, my sleep-wake cycles had been severely disrupted by my time in Slade's prison of a warehouse. We Titans had never had the strictest-kept bedtimes, but mine were now a lot worse off. In Slade's home, I had to be on guard every second, and this left very little time for real, restful and deep sleep. In fact, I never even had dreams there.

Now, of course, I had to adjust my body back to the cycle of daytime and nighttime, so that I could keep on track with my friends. And in addition to that, I had to ease out of the constant state of awareness that had been necessary for my survival in Slade's domain. That meant I had to try and force myself into deep, Stage-4 sleep at the same intervals as my friends.

Needless to say, forcing myself to sleep didn't work very well. For the first week, I never had a dream, and I never felt fully rested. By the end of the second week, I had stopped being constantly alert and jerking awake at the slightest noise in the dark, but dreams still eluded me.

Approaching the end of my third week back home, I knew that getting up in the middle of the night really wouldn't help me get back to sleep. But I was up and in the kitchen anyway, looking through the cupboards and debating whether coffee or sugar would be the better choice.

"Robin?"

My head jerked and my eyes locked on the doorway in a lightning-fast reflex that it took my brain a few seconds to catch up to. In contrast to my quick reaction, I was slow to say anything. "Hey, Raven," I finally murmured, my voice thick from sleep deprivation. "What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep." She shrugged, drifting forward to my side and reaching past me into the cupboard. Turning around, she headed for another cabinet. "Want some tea?"

"Will it help me sleep?" I asked.

"It might. It usually does that for me."

"Sure." I walked around to the other side of the counter, taking a seat. Resting my elbows on the counter, I watched her hazily as she moved abotu the kitchen, heating up the water and then steeping something in it for a few minutes.

The silence between us was peaceful, companionable. Raven was a good friend for those times you didn't really want to talk, when just the company of someone else was a comfort. I appreciated her for that. She was a listener, and even though I wasn't really one to talk about my problems, it was nice to know that there was someone there who would listen, if I chose to talk.

I rubbed a hand against the back of my neck as she finished up, trying to ease the soreness of the muscles. I'd actually spent quite a bit of time in the bathroom before bed, my head bent at an awkward angle, as I tried yet another solution to try and dull the ink. So far, Slade had told the truth - it seemed like nothing short of acid would remove the mark. I hadn't had the chance to try out the second solution I'd found, because Beast Boy had started pounding on the door, but I'd try it tomorrow.

"Sore?" Raven asked, noticing my movement.

"A little," I replied casually, hoping that she wouldn't take the opportunity to look. I angled my body towards her slightly to prevent that, taking the mug from her hands. "From reading, earlier today." I had read earlier today, just a few old reports. I wasn't technically lying.

She nodded, murmuring in assent and accepting the excuse without hesitation. We sat there, and I weakly wished that I'd kept my cape on. But of course, that would only be more suspicious. It was midnight, and I was supposedly just unable to sleep. If I'd had my cape on while out here, Raven would have thought that I was trying to go somewhere, or just got back in.

That wasn't too far from the truth, though. I hadn't actually gone to sleep, but instead went to the roof. I had been out for a good few hours before slipping back into my room, making a game of running through Cyborg's security system without being detected. I'd fix that path in the morning so that no one else could sneak in the same way, but I liked challenging myself like that. It kept both of us on top of the security for the Tower.

About fifteen minutes passed in silence before I decided I had to make my escape before Raven managed to catch a glimpse of my neck. She'd surely try to, thinking that it was sore and wondering if she should offer to help. I knew that she would if she talked herself into it, just like I knew that she did know how to massage sore muscles. She'd do that for us if we had been training hard for a day and someone was sore. The girl had a magic touch that had nothing to do with her actual abilities.

"Thanks for the tea, Raven," I told her, standing up with a weary smile. "I think I'm going to head back to my room now, try and get some more rest." She nodded in reply, her gaze far away. She was thinking. This was a perfect opportunity for me to make my escape, and I took it. I was right at the door when I felt a soft touch on the back of my neck.

She must have teleported, to get so close so quickly without me hearing her footsteps. Her finger traced the spiky 'S' that was Slade's symbol, in one of his tracemark colors - black - which was now permanently embedded on my skin.

There was no use running from her. I turned my head slightly to the side, seeing her out of the corner of my eye. There was nothing but concern in her shadowed gaze. I waited for her to say something, and finally she did. "Who knows?"

"Cyborg. You."

She was silent for a second. "You haven't tried to get rid of it." It was a questioning statement, curiosity and concern melded into one.

My lips twitched in a humorless smile. Oh, what hadn't I tried, short of slicing the mark clean out of my skin? "Cyborg offered to give me a prison tattoo to cover it up."

Despite herself, there was humor at the comment. I saw it in the twitch of her lips. "I could try to make it go away with a little bit of magic. Just obliterate it from existence." I knew that the offer was serious.

"Thanks, but I don't know how deep the ink's gone. I wasn't conscious - I'm not sure what he actually did." That thoguht scared me more than anything. That it wasn't just a tattoo, but something more sinister or dangerous. A microchip, embedded underneath the surface of the blackened skin: something connecting my nerves to the mark, to be activated with some secret, mysterious weapon...

Her fingers pressed gently against my skin for a moment, and I heard her mutter those three words under her breath. I saw the faint black glow from her eyes and hand, and then it faded. "Nothing there but a mark. Skin deep, shallow. But that ink is tricky. What did he use?"

"A secret formula, apparently."

"Figures," she muttered under her breath. "You should take Cyborg up on his offer," she added, quietly, her hand slipping from the back of my neck to my shoulder in a gesture of support.

"I might." Somehow, the thought of another needle - even one under the control of my friend - touching that spot on my neck made me anxious. Unnerved.

"And you shouldn't hide it from Beast Boy or Starfire."

That was a harder thing to promise, but I ended up giving in. "I'll tell them soon."

"Good." She drifted past me, both of her hands now cupping the mug that she'd brought with her. "We're your friends. We all understand as much as you let us." The door closed siletnly behind her.

I smiled to myself, before opening the door and heading to my room.

* * *

A few days later, I was attempting to remove the tattoo with another solution that I'd picked up from a market downtown. And this time, Beast Boy barged right into the bathroom, just as I'd given up on the solution and was turning to throw it in the trash. "Duuuude -"

The bottle clanked into the bin. I spun on my heel, grabbing my cape off the counter, and faced the intruder.

"-that's just _nasty_!" Beast Boy stuck his hands under the faucet, scrubbing something off of his hands. I stared at him, surprised by his intrusion - but not so surprised by his lack of manners. He'd gone through a phase where he'd barged into the bathroom while I was taking showers. It hadn't really bothered me too much, since he didn't really mean to do it, nor did he try to pull the shower curtain aside. He always stumbled right back out, apologizing, but it had become an absentminded habit of his.

He'd only been broken of that habit when Raven once beat me to the shower.

He shouted again, most likely at Cyborg. "Dude, that's just wrong - you can't cook tofu in bacon grease! That defeats the whole purpose!"

I snorted. He jumped. "Robin! Dude, I'm sorry!" he apologized.

"Nah, it's fine," I grinned, clutching the cape in my hands. "I was just - getting dressed," I siad hurriedly. My shower had actually ended about half an hour ago, but I'd taken the opportunity to try out that solution this morning after I'd pulled the rest of my clothes on.

Beast Boy grinned, then turned off the faucet. He backed away from the sink, intending to let me slip by. "Go ahead, dude," he grinned, flexing his damp fingers as he gestured for me to walk by.

I angled my body sideways, as I had to in order to slip by him, and made sure that my back was to the wall. No way was I going to face away from him, so that he could see the tattoo close up. "Thanks, Beast Boy."

"No prob -"

I was still sidling towards the doorway, my eyes fixed on the escape, when his hand grabbed my shoulder. I felt a distinct sense of deja vu, as I realized that it wasn't Beast Boy's natural tendency for slang that had resulted in "no prob" versus "no problem".

I sighed, freezing in place. From behind me, I heard Beast Boy's slightly squeaky, "Dude..." Something flicked the hair away from the base of my neck.

"Does everyone on this team have super-vision?" I moaned in irritation. Seriously, how had they all managed to spot that tiny tattoo from feet - or yards - away?

Beast Boy offered up a hesitant laugh. "Everyone? So I'm the last to know about this?"

"No," I told him, turning around. My arms crossed over my chest protectively as I added, "Starfire doesn't know yet."

"But Cyborg and Raven do?" he asked, wide eyes serious. I was always caught a little off balance when Beast Boy was serious: he was usually so lighthearted.

"Yeah. They saw it, too." I gritted my teeth together. "Hence, 'super-vision'."

He laughed, a little more naturally this time. "So, they've probably all given you advice and everything, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well...I..." He hesitated, as if thinking of exactly what to say, before he stared up at me determindly. "You should tell Starfire. Not let her find out on her own terms."

I had to admit, that idea sounded like it was the right thing to do. I nodded slowly. "I know. I'll...try."

One corner of his mouth twisted up in a grin. "It's not going to be easy, but it's Starfire, you know? She'll just give you a big bear hug and say something to cheer you up."

I smiled. He was right, after all. And with that, his advice session ended. He clapped his hands together, the seriousness disappearing from his face altogether.

"Okay." His grin became more natural by the second as he adjusted to the information. "Well, that means I get to do the real work - cheer you up." He held up a hand at my raised eyebrow. "Don't even fake it, Robin - you've been moody lately, and it's obvious why. Well, mroe moody than usual, I guess."

"I have?" It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Yeah, didn't you notice?" Beast Boy's eyes took on a dazed look as he began to mumble aloud. "We should have a movie marathon - no, maybe we should go out to the theater! That's different. The pizza place for lunch, too? Yeah, and if we have to fight any bad guys, that's even more stress-relieving for Robin..."

He headed off down the hallway, and I couldn't help but smile as I tugged my cape over my shoulders and into place. In typical Beast Boy fashion, he'd been presented with a problem, dealt with it seriously for a few minutes, made sure in a roundabout way that everything was fine, and proceeded to his area of expertise: distraction.

I followed him, hearing him proclaim his news of the spontaneously-planned outing to the living room. I could always count on that lightheartedness from Beast Boy. He was a good friend, like that. He certainly wasn't the first one you'd think of as the listener, but he did know how to take a problem and dismantle it, then build something new from what was left behind.

He'd given me exactly the distraction I needed after weeks of feeling out of place, back in my new life. And how coudl I not take advantage of the enjoyment that he was so readily providing, not just for me, but also for all of my friends?

* * *

After Beast Boy had found out, I thought for three days about the advice he'd given me. And in the end, I decided to share the secret with Starfire on my terms. I didn't want her t ofind out by chance, or feel hurt that I hadn't told her already. But I knew that I had some explaining to do, because I wasn't just going to tell her about the tattoo. I would also have to let her know about the advice that our other three friends had given me.

It was during the traditional sunset hour that Starfire usually spent on the roof. She claimed to love the sight of the Earth's sunset, all fire and brightness. I loved watching her enjoy herself by watching something so simple, yet extraordinary. It was one of the few times the two of us were ever really alone. None of the other Titans had ever intruded on our solitude while the sunset was in progress. It was just...a Robin and Starfire thing.

I emerged onto the roof just as the sun was beginning to touch the ocean. Starfire's legs were curled up underneath her, and her red hair was iridescent in the setting sun. I paused there, just watching her. She was so calm, so at peace, right now. I knew that the instant I told her, she would be concerned for me. That was just how Starfire was, how she reacted.

She turned her head, as if sensing me there. She smiled upon meeting my eyes. "Friend Robin, please join me," she said. "You are just in time."

I walked over and joined her on the ledge, my feet dangling over the side. We watched the sun set. It was no different from the countless other times we watched the sun set together, except for the pep talk that was taking place in my head. I convinced myself that I could do this, that I could tell her.

The sun was half-sunken behind the ocean when I finally managed to say, "Starfire?"

She was surprised - it took her a moment to reply. "Yes, Friend Robin?"

"There's something I've wanted to talk to you about," I started slowly, my words uncertain and halting. She listened raptly, her attention now focused solely on me. "Since...since being Slade's apprentice, I've had a bit of trouble adjusting back into my life. A lot of stuff happened when I was away from the Tower - not just to you guys. To me, too."

"What happened when you were with Slade that you wish to share, Robin?" she asked quietly.

I reached up, unfastening the cape that was slung around my shoulders. "I think it was when I was drugged. Or maybe after I got knocked out by the Slade-bots - there were a few of those blackouts. But, anyway," I let the cape fall behind me. "He did something." Turning my back to her, I flicked the short strands of hair away from the back of my neck, pointing to the tattoo with one finger.

A second later, her delicate finger was tracing the spiky "S" on my skin. "Oh, Robin..." I turned around, but she didn't let her hand drop. It stayed in place on the back of my neck, and she stared at me with wide, sad eyes. "What is it?"

My lips twitched. Of course, she didn't know. "It's called a tattoo. The process involves using a needle and ink to permanently put a design on yours - or someone else's - skin." She grimaced at the vague description. "I'm not sure exactly how to get rid of it, but I'd tried a few solutions and I think I'd have to ask a professional to take it off."

"Why haven't you already gone to a professional?" she asked, wide-eyed.

I shook my head. "I can't. That symbol, they'd recognize it if I went to anyone in this city. And I can't take the time off to travel somewhere else, for the sole purpose of removing a tattoo. Plus, I did some research - this one's in a bad location for surgery that's been developed that could remove it. It's too close to my brain and spinal cord, too dangerous."

She frowned, thinking, before asking slowly, "Could you not needle another...tattoo over this one?"

"Ink," I corrected her absently. She blinked. "You said 'needle'. In slang, you'd say 'ink' instead."

"Slang?"

"Let's just go with 'put a new tattoo over this one', then," I laughed. She grinned sheepishly. For a moment, I forgot what she'd asked, but as I recalled it, the grin slipped from my face. "Well, that's the same problem - if I go to a professional in the city, they would recognize the symbol. I can't take the time to go to another city. And...Cyborg offered to do a prison-style tattoo, but that's even more dangerous."

"Prison style?" she asked, confused. Then her eyes narrowed. "Cyborg?"

"Prison style would mean done by hand," I explained. "Not professionally. And..." I looked down, feeling horribly guilty. "Well, everyone else managed to catch me with my cape off. They caught me - it - and I had to explain a little. But...I didn't want you to have to find out like that." I looked up, truth in my eyes. "I wanted to tell you. You deserve that from me." Her eyes widened. "Actually, you all deserve that from me," I added, looking back out over the ocean. The sun was almost completely gone over the horizon. "At least one out of the four of you got that much."

"Robin." I looked at her. Her expression was sincere. "This is obviously difficult for you to talk about. I know that you did not hold this from us lightly, and I appreciate that you wished to tell me yourself. I am glad that you did. But I do not think less of you, that you did not tell the rest of our friends the way you wanted to. I am sure that they do not find fault with you for this."

"No, I don't think so, either." I felt her hand on my arm, and I took it in mine. She squeezed gently, and her gaze turned back to the sunset. We continued watching it.

And I felt infinitely better as the sun sank over the edge of the sky.

* * *

_**A/N -** Thank you, everyone, for reading! I hope you enjoyed the story!_


End file.
